


My Favourite Part

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Soft Thighs Series [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Nudity, and fluff, and just yeah cuteness, overweight reader, plus size reader, some mild references to sex, some minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky’s favourite part of your body is your large thighs and the softness they hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favourite Part

You’d been lying in bed with Bucky, naked as the very day you were born and very much enjoying his attentions and the way he cared for you and eagerly attempted to make you smile at every corner. You were enjoying a relaxed Bucky who wasn’t letting his worries take-over his mind. A Bucky who you were sure was much like the days Steve had originally known him, happy, charming, and untroubled.

“Buck!” You giggled as Bucky’s lips nipped at your shoulder, his metal arm laid besides your head, his flesh one holding your thick waist firmly, the fingers digging deliciously into the skin of your side. Not enough to bruise, but enough to leave a temporary mark where his fingers had laid. 

“You know what my favourite part of you is?” You looked up, locking eyes with Bucky’s blue ones as he kissed his way down your chest, your clothes long since disappeared and the aftermath of a long night leaving the two of you affectionate and very naked.

“Mmm, my wit?” You grinned down at him, watching the loving way he smoothed over your soft stomach, the rolls, and the stretch marks that crossed your skin in streaks. His teeth nipping against a couple as he went, affectionately placing kisses to your stomach, seemingly dedicating large amounts of his time to the skin there.

“Nuh uh.” 

“My...lips?” You hummed out, as he continued to nuzzle at your soft, round stomach, his flesh hand moving down to grip at your thigh, and his metal hand running cool fingers up and down your large arm, revelling in the way you shivered at the sensation. One of your hands coming up to card through his hair, carefully playing with strands as you watched Bucky with slightly hooded eyes.

“Wrong again, doll.” His voice taking on an almost sing song quality. You loved when Bucky felt comfortable enough to tease you like this, kiss your skin, and smirk up at you, the darkness in his eyes taking a back seat for once and instead letting them light up as the gazed upon your figure. You loved that Bucky worshipped your body like this, that after having so many partners who tried to ignore your weight, your size, your very flesh, you had one who worshipped it, loved it, revelled in the feeling of it. One who loved you for it all rather than ignoring it to allow himself to love you, because Bucky saw every part of you as loveable, not just select areas.

“My tummy?” You figured that was a pretty good guess with the way he was still kissing the skin there, the softness of his lips pressing and sucking the skin to the point you knew you’d have little bruises there in the morning.

“Warmer, getting warmer...” Bucky finally moved his lips from your stomach, trailing them down the side of your hip, and along your leg, hot breath falling over the skin, his teeth nipping at the softness of your hip with a playful growl that had you flicking him in the side of the head. 

“Says the Winter Soldier” A metal hand reached down to your side playfully digging into the skin, laughter spilling from your lips as you writhed away from the tickling sensation that filled your body, before the hand pulled away gripping the curve of your hip instead, kneading the flesh there as your chest heaved from the playful tickle that you’d been subjected to.

You looked down at him again, where his teeth were lightly nipping at your inner thigh, his cheek coming to rest against one as you spoke. Locking his eyes with yours as he ran his hands over your sides still. Your blush filling your face at the gentle way he looked at you, even after being intimate with him, after everything he could still make you as bashful as the first time he met you. 

“I don’t know, Buck, what is your favourite part of me?” You were almost worried to ask, more often than not favourite parts when it came to girls like you were personality traits, or eyes or things that avoided weight, avoided the thickness of your waist, the roundness of your stomach, the weight of your thighs. Part of you knew that that wasn’t Bucky though, that Bucky had stated on no uncertain terms that he loved your body, that he loved the weight you carried, that he loved the softness you held. He’d made it clear, yet he always had to soothe little doubts you had. About a dress, or a hair cut, or how much skin you showed, and every time he reminded you how beautiful you were. 

“Your thighs.” 

“Really?” Your brow furrowed as you sat yourself up, Bucky still leaning against one of your thighs. Your thighs had always been a trouble spot for you, they were large and lumbering, and you always felt like people noticed them when you walked around or when you sat down in a chair and not in a positive way...to know that Bucky loved them most of all was shocking, but had affection welling in your chest, as you watched him look up at you with his cheek pressed into your thigh, his metal arm wrapping around one and his flesh hand drawing circles on the other. 

“Mmm, they’re soft, and large, and I can grab ‘em, and i’m pretty sure you could break a man’s neck with them which is surprisingly hot.” His Brooklyn accent became even deep with every word, heavy flush running up your neck and chest at the sound. God you loved his voice. The deep timber, the way his accent curled around words, made even between when he spoke Russian or any of the other number of languages he knew. 

“Huh...” It wasn’t surprising to you that the ex-assassin would be a man who found the possibility of you breaking his neck attractive, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he linked your thighs to strength where others linked it to gluttony...but it did and it surprised you in the best of ways, it had you leaning back to lay down on the bed. 

It had you gasping and humming as little kisses were placed upon and all around your thigh, expanses of skin licked, and no doubt red and purple little bruises all the way up the inside of your thighs from the nipping teeth. Your head spinning from the praise that fell from Bucky’s lips and worshipping touches as he ran his hands up and down your legs, squeezing just so and proving to you that yes, his favourite part of you was your thighs. That yes, he adored them, that they were beautiful to him, that they were sexy, and strong, and wonderful and that those doubts about them, about how they looked and how they were were unfounded. That they were perfect, that he’d always loved to have them surrounding his head, wrapped over his shoulders, wrapped around his hips, folded over on his lap during a movie. That he loved them like he loved every part of you, just maybe a little more. That you could love them too because yeah, they were large, but he was right they were thick, soft, strong, and they felt wonderful wrapped around him and that was the proof in the pudding. They were just as much for his benefit as your own and you could perhaps learn to love them to.

“You know what I love about you, James?” Your voice was practically stuck in your throat as he hummed against your thigh in curiosity. “I love your voice, I love your hands, I love your smile, I love the way you make me feel beautiful, and special even when you’re not here...because you make me love myself and I love you for that.”

Bucky pulled away from your thighs, crawling up your body, placing kisses to the bare skin before hovering over your own. “I love you too. I love that you make me feel normal, that you make me feel like I can heal, that I can be more than just what Hydra made. I love you for every ounce of skin, every gentle word, and every little glance. I love you, doll.” You crashed your lips against his, running your hands through his hair, revelling in this. That you two were a little broken, but you were fixing yourselves together, that the broken parts were becoming less sharp, less painful, and beginning to glue themselves together again. 


End file.
